O, Licentia!
by Tey'Imena
Summary: In a different time and place, Autobots have no idea of the sentience of their human pets - and the Decepticons don't care. "You can protect your liberties in this world only by protecting the other man's freedom. You can be free only if I am free."
1. domestication

Little drabbles/one shots of an AU that may or may not eventually tie together relatively cohesively. I dunno. They're all pretty much connected and leading up to this one particular scene I have in mind. Yeah.

_It is a strange desire, to seek power, and to lose liberty; or to seek power over others, and lose power over a man's self. – Francis Bacon, Sr._

It was over before it began. And when it was over, it left everyone bewildered. Everyone – except the giant robots with red eyes. Pockets of resistance remained, scattered across the globe. Amazingly, Earth was relatively unharmed by her extraterrestrial visitors – by her alien conquerors. However, this was not the main focus of humanity. Humanity was more concerned with the fact that these giant robots seemed to view them as little more than exotic animals; exotic animals with a minimal intelligence that allowed them to perform menial tasks of servitude.

And so it came that the human race became little more than exotic servants to the alien mechanoid one. They were systematically collected; by sex, by race, by age, occasionally by displayed talents. Once collected, they were separated again within each original division – male and female, grouped by age and race. And from there, they were shipped to a place the robots called 'Cybertron'.

But again, pockets of resistance remained. Humans who wanted to fight back joined these resistance groups, working to free others from the collection cages, to keep some humans from even being noticed by the 'domestication squads'. The tensions quickly escalated to the point where the domestication squads traveled with what were obviously soldier robots, solely intended to engage with the human resistance factions.

It was a bloody struggle.

And far away on Cybertron, hardly anyone even knew that the new, wonderfully fascinating tiny organic beings were there against their wills. The idea of their sentience was dismissed, though the occasional mech would proclaim with pride that his human was particularly intelligent for a pet.


	2. peanuts

Yeah, I've got an OC. I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I just… I cannot, in any sense of character honesty, see Sam or Mikaela or Miles or any of the others doing what she does. Not to say that this is entirely about her, oh no! She just… well, she fits. And I needed somebody for the role.

_Those who deny freedom to others deserve it not for themselves. ~Abraham Lincoln_

He met her on the shuttle.

"So. What you in for?" Sam asked, attempting to toss the joke flippantly, even though he could hear his own voice shaking. "And didn't they have us separated by sex?" he asked, blinking as he noticed that the 'young man' he'd been talking had, um, curves.

"I thought I'd take a walk," she said, shrugging as she turned to look at him. "And I guess the robots aren't as bright as they think," she added with a forced lightness. "Shapeless clothing, short hair, and purely male company? I don't think they were really looking."

Sam nodded, though he was still a little lost. Giant robots couldn't tell the difference between the sexes? Weird.

"You?" she asked.

"Uh," Sam said, "I was looking for Mojo."

"Mojo?"

"Um." Sam could feel a light flush crawl up his cheeks. "My dog."

"You managed to keep your dog?" the girl asked, surprised. "I thought the regulations said nothing non-essential could be brought to the bases."

Sam shrugged, and gave a rueful laugh. "Yeah, try telling my mom that the family Chihuahua is unnecessary. She considers that thing to be her second baby."

A suppressed (and slightly hysterical) giggle escaped Sam's companion, and it dawned on Sam in that moment that he didn't know whom he was sitting next to.

"Sam Witwicky," he said, bumping her shoulder. He got a chortle and a shoulder bump in return.

"Anya Reynolds."

"I would say nice to meet you, but…" Sam trailed off.

"It's kind of hard to be pleased about much when you've been kidnapped by giant alien robots," Anya said, nodding. They shook hands anyways, and offered each other grim smiles as they settled in.

"So do you think there will be in-flight peanuts?" Anya asked after several minutes, loud enough to be heard by the majority of the people held with them. Some stared at her in confusion or shock, but several laughed (though there was a slightly desperate tinge to it).

"Are you kidding? You know what airline food service is like," Sam quipped back, a ricture of a smile on his face. There was a similar grim expression on Anya's, even as she quirked a corner of her mouth in a smile.

"You're right," she said. "Even if we do get something, it probably won't be any good."

The two fell silent after that, along with their 'companions', as the dark double edge of that statement sunk in.

"This sucks," Sam said after several long moments.

"You're telling me," Anya agreed, slouching against the bulkhead. Silence fell again, and moments later Anya would swear that she'd heard Sam mutter something about a 'Mikaela.'

"Girlfriend?" Anya asked quietly. Sam jolted next to her, and moved his shoulders in embarrassment.

"Um. No. Not my girlfriend, not really, she's just a girl, y'know? Just a girl that I – " Sam babbled.

"Sam. You're babbling."

"Oh." Sam clamped his mouth shut. "Uh, sorry."

"So not your girlfriend, but you wish she was?" Anya's voice was sly, and faintly teasing.

"What! No, I mean, um, y'know she – yeah, I guess so, but – no, that's not what I meant, I just hope she's safe, that's all!"

"Sam. I am sitting next to you, in the dark, in the underbelly of an alien robot slaver ship, heading to God knows where. And even I can tell you're ass over teakettle for this girl."

"Who says 'ass over teakettle' anymore?" Sam asked in reply, and after a moment, the two dissolved into hysteric-tinged laughter.


	3. collection

Yeah, there haven't been a lot of robots so far, but it's only two drabbles as of yet! Now the robots start showing up. Whoo. And I'm not breaking up Sam and Mikaela for Anya; no way!

Right-o. Onward!

_Nothing is more difficult, and therefore more precious, than to be able to decide. – Napoleon Bonaparte_

"Man, I think I can sympathize with the animals in the zoos, now," Sam complained, watching yet another mech peruse the 'selection.'

"Oh yeah? Well at least zoo animals had relative freedoms," Anya griped from her place sprawled across the cage floor.

"Freedoms? We're in cages!"

"Yeah, but at least zoo animals had toys and things to play with. Y'know, habitats and stuff. Our cages are just metal mesh and fabric padding."

"Okay, you have a point there," Sam conceded. He slouched against one of the cage walls. "Dude, I could totally go for a hamster wheel right about now, I don't care _how_ demeaning that is."

"So go ask for one," Anya grumbled.

"Dude. Who woke up on the wrong side of the cage?" Sam asked.

"Every side of the cage is the wrong side!" Anya yelled, violently pushing herself into an upright position. "We're in a _cage_! For fuck's sake, how can any of this _not_ be the wrong side?"

"Hokay," Sam said very quietly, eyes wide and hands up in a non-threatening gesture of surrender. "I am not dangerous. Please don't hurt me?"

Anya sighed heavily and slumped back down into the cage padding. "Sorry, Sam," she said, her voice muffled by the fabric. "I just… nerves, y'know? We've been here for I don't know how long, with nothing to do except watch mechs come in and _buy_ us," she said with venomous disgust – and a curious tinge of resignation that Sam was sure was his imagination.

"At least we're not separated," Sam offered. "Well, okay, not on opposite sides of the room," he amended at Anya's flat stare. The robots had eventually figured out that Anya was female, and had placed her in the appropriate enclosure. Luckily, the cages were right next to each other, and the mesh had large enough holes in the adjoining sides that communication between the cage occupants was easy – including touch. Most of the humans in them huddled alongside the adjoining cage sides, which happened to be on the opposite side of the cage from the water dispenser.

"Okay," Anya said quietly. "You've got a point about that."

A commotion at the other end of the room – near the doors – caught the attention of every human in the two cages.

"Hey! Get your useless aft over, Dreadwind!"

The mech in charge of the humans' care until they were purchased (most of the humans just called him The Curator in some kind of gallows humor) went over to the doors, clicking and whirring at the newcomer. Humans knew enough of what passed for robot facial expressions to recognize that the two were arguing. And those humans who had bothered to attempt to learn the language of their captors knew that the new mech had insulted The Curator (who was apparently called Dreadwind, whatever that meant) while asking for help.

Such friendly creatures.

"What do you want, Axer?" Dreadwind groused, clicking and beeping in irritation.

"Got you some fresh blood, Dreadwind," Axer growled, shaking the large box in his hands. Cries and yells came from within its confines – human cries and yells.

"More of these useless fleshies? Ugh," Dreadwind groaned, whirring loudly as he rolled his optics. "At least they go for a high price," he grumbled, reaching to take the box from Axer.

"Femmes," Axer said without prompting. "As much as we can tell from their disgustingly primitive forms." Dreadwind snorted in agreement.

"I'll get your bounty soon as I dump 'em with the others," he said over one shoulder as he headed for the cages. He couldn't be _too_ rough with the disgusting little creatures, unfortunately – the stupid things were astoundingly fragile. Bad form design, that.

So Dreadwind opened the femme cage, inserted the box as close to the padded flooring as possible, and pressed the button that swept open the bottom, sending the occupants tumbling out, shrieking and yelling. Ugh! Such high-pitched noises!

He turned away in deeper disgust to go get the pouch of credit chips waiting for Axer.

Behind him, in the cages, Sam and Anya and the rest of the humans tried to calm the newcomers.


	4. new kids

Now the Autobots! Er, this one isn't a drabble, really, is it? I think it's too long for that. OH WELL

_Lean liberty is better than fat slavery. – John Ray_

"I know this means giving in to the system, but man, I think I'm insulted," Anya said one day, watching as another mech (this one with blue eyes; did they only have two eye colors in this place? Fire-heart-blue and blood-ruby-red?) paid for his new human servant-pet, plus accessories, and left.

"What?"

"Why?"

Sam and Mikaela spoke at the same time, their voices blending together. Mikaela had 'arrived' little more than a week ago, in another one of Axer's visits. Most of the humans in the cages had never bothered to learn the mechanoid language while on Earth, except for Sam, Mikaela, and Anya. Between them, they could understand most of the spoken and written language. Well, to a point. Mostly they knew words like 'medic' or 'offline' or curse words, and a few commands. But they could hazard guesses – and generally turned out to be right.

"I mean, we've been here how long now? Er, not you Mikaela, you just got here, but I mean, Sam and me, we've been here at least… a long while. And no one's bought us!"

Sam stared.

"You've finally gone crazy," Mikaela said, shaking her head, as she reached out to feel Anya's forehead with the back of her hand. "I wondered how long it would take."

"Oh be quiet," Anya groused. "I – here comes another one."

"Why do we care, again?" Sam asked.

"Because an owner is actually better than whatever passes for euthanasia around here?" Anya said innocently.

"_Euthanasia_?" yelped Mikaela. "What?"

"Yeah," Anya said. "Remember when the Curator took Robert two weeks ago? Rob never came back, and one of those scientist robots showed up."

A depressive silence fell between the three, and Mikaela edged closer to the mesh, reaching for Sam's hand. "That's…. that's terrible. It's inhumane!"

"Wake up, honey," Anya said darkly. "They _aren't_ human. They're bigger, they're stronger, they're _in charge_. They can do whatever they want," she muttered, glaring balefully at the new mech that had just walked in the door.

This one was smaller than many of the ones that had come through. It was also bright yellow, which was an oddity as most of the mechs they had seen had been dull tones or gray shades with a bit of black and white, and maybe blue or red or even purple splashed on. Not bright daffodil yellow.

"Wow," Sam said, staring at the mech. "That is… wow. I think that's the brightest yellow I've ever seen."

"I don't know that it's the _brightest_, per se," Anya said, "but it's definitely eye catching."

"Are those… racing stripes?" Mikaela asked in disbelief, staring at the black markings on the yellow mech.

"Do giant robots even have races?" Sam wondered in response. Mikaela punched him on the shoulder, and the two grinned briefly at each other. "It looks kind of like a bumblebee with those markings," Sam mused. "Doesn't it?"

"Better be careful it doesn't sting us," Mikaela joked half-heartedly

"Stop flirting. We might get bought," Anya reminded them, though she wished she didn't have to.

"Oh yeah," Sam said, eyes downcast. Mikaela's eyes also saddened. She remembered Sam from Earth – the goofy kid on the base who actually managed to cheer people up and make them laugh. She'd thought he was sweet then, and had hated it when he'd gone missing, taken by the domestication squads. She had been relieved to find a familiar face upon her own arrival, and even more relieved that that face was Sam's.

"The blue eyed mechs seem different from the others," Anya mused. And then her voice changed to an odd pitch, "Guys? Maybe we should stop staring at the bumblebee mech over there."

"What? Why?" Mikaela asked, looking up.

"It's returning the favor!" Anya half-yelped, almost mesmerized by the bright blue eyes staring at her and her two friends.

"What!" Sam and Mikaela actually did yelp, and in unison. They clutched at each other's hands through the cage mesh, and all three of them instinctively huddled closer together.

"Yeah, the yellow one's staring right back at us," Anya hissed.

The two mechs – 'Bumblebee' and the Curator – clicked softly at each other, and all the while the yellow mech never took its eyes off the three humans.

"Shit. I think money just changed hands," Anya said, twitching from side to side as she watched the yellow and black mech hand over what looked like a handful of local currency to the Curator.

"What?" Sam hissed, staring almost fearfully.

"God, I swear I was just joking when I said I wanted to be bought!" Anya. "Don't split us up!"

"Oh my God," Mikaela whispered, nearly crushing Sam's hand with one of hers as her free hand twined in the back of Anya's shirt. "Do you think it bought us? What if it only bought one of us? Oh my God," she moaned softly.

The rest of the cage inhabitants had stealthily – and some not so stealthily – edged away from the three that were the obvious focus of the two mechs.

The yellow and black one began to move forward, followed by the Curator. The three humans pressed closer together.

"Shouldn't we stop staring?" Sam hissed.

"I think it's too late for that to do any good!" Anya snapped back, pressing back against Mikaela, as if she could somehow press the other girl through the mesh and into Sam's arms. Not that she would actually be safe there, but that kind of action might convince the mech to keep those two together.

The yellow and black mech stood next to both cages, the Curator to its left. There was a hand motion, some more clicking, beeping, and whirring of gears, and then finally a nod before both the Curator and the bumblebee mech reached out, flipped open the top of the cages, and reach in to scoop out Sam, Mikaela, and Anya.

"Oh my God oh my God oh my God," Mikaela muttered under breath, trying to keep herself under control. All three of them were freaking out slightly, and trying not to give in to their fight or flight responses. Which was really, really hard.

"Don't panic, don't panic, don't panic," Anya kept chanting, not bothering to be overly quiet. "For the love of God, don't actively panic!"

"Not helping!" Mikaela called from her place in the Curator's other hand.

"Can you think of anything else?" Anya said. "I'd be happy to hear other ideas!"

"Just – oh my God. Oh my God oh my God oh my God." Mikaela began to lightly hyperventilate, staring at the carrier cage that the yellow mech and the Curator were putting them in. "Oh my God! Oh my God! We've been _bought_!"

"No shit, Sherlock!" Anya snapped.

"Hey!" Sam called from the hands of the bumblebee mech. "Stop fighting! It's not going to help us much!"

"Then what – _Sam_!" Mikaela half-shrieked, when the bumblebee mech appeared to drop Sam in the carrier. She shrieked again when the Curator really did drop her and Anya in the carrier immediately after.

The mesh door closed with a soft sound – almost no sound at all, and yet the three could not help but hear the sound of an unknown future descending upon them,


End file.
